


one off from misery

by Anonymous



Category: One Piece
Genre: Child Abuse, Codependency, Gen, Minor Character Death, Trans Male Character, between ulti & page one, yamato's factkinning crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The name Kaido gave him must've cursed him for life, there's no way he could have everything good in his life ripped away from him otherwise. Biting back his emotions he thinks of Ace, then Kaido; then that there's no need to suck up to his father anymore - all the years he's tried to be of use to Kaido had been wasted.
Relationships: Kaido & Yamato (One Piece), Page One & Ulti (One Piece), Page One & Yamato, Ulti & Yamato, Yamato & Black Maria, Yamato & Jack The Drought, Yamato & Luffy - Relationship, Yamato & Portgas D. Ace, Yamato & Who's Who
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: Anonymous





	one off from misery

**Author's Note:**

> this is a oneshot that was split into two since people told me it was getting too long ^^;. if possible, please keep creators style on for this fic, unless you're on a phone!

"I chose this name myself, so I'd appreciate it if you at least gave an attempt at saying it right."

Luffy blinks, then absently rips the grass at his side from the root. "Oh, sorry."

Then.

"Is it something Oden related?"

Tiredly, Yamato grins from behind his hand, "'course it is - the one my shitty old man gave me was pretty ironic, so I had to come up with something that felt right and didn't make him want to beat the shit out of me. My first attempt was Naruto."

"That sucks," says Luffy, "Sanji hates that name. If you were named Naruto I think he would've tried to punt you into a wall."

"If you can barely get my name right," Yamato says, scrubbing dirt from his face and sleep from his eyes, "then I'm glad I did, you wouldn't be able to handle two names that begin with an 'S' sound."

Luffy makes an undignified squawk that makes Yamato laugh, and despite everything that's happened today, Yamato rolls his shoulders back and keeps his head tall. The demon is defeated. Wano is free and Yamato can live his life however he likes, as late as it is.

Yamato stares at Ace's little brother, takes a miserable examination of his heart as he recalls the look on Luffy's face as he stood victorious above Big Mom and Kaido both, and locks away any unnecessary emotions.

His father's kindness and pride was always something wasted on him, Kaido must've thought as much, to put those cuffs on Yamato. He expected obedience and a soldier instead of a child, and Yamato is under no obligation to love such a man. He can not love such a cruel man.

That's how it should be at least.

Before Yamato chose his name, he had a hard time writing the one his father gave him.

The name Kaido gave him has eight strokes, pronounced 'Sachi' it uses the Kanji for the first part of the word meaning 'joy'. By all means, it’s not a difficult word to write, it in every story book text and every book, it’s not a case of it being hard to memorize or anything, but Sachi looks at his name indifferently, and the Kamuro teaching him writing him forces a smile, looking as if she'd rather be anywhere but here, fan poised and ready to either smack him or cover her mouth and titter.

Black Maria isn't much older than him, yet his father prefers her by a mile - she's clever and beautiful, and her hair spills over her shoulders in long, golden waves that Sachi tracks with his eyes every time she moves. Black Maria's never favoured him particularly, but she has him watch as she practices moving in slow, deliberate figure eights like an Oiran and makes him pretend to be a child attendant at the end of the trail of her kimono, so that must count for something. She'd be a lovely courtesan, but Sachi has no interest in her. She's hot headed, and her tongue is sharp, and worst of all she tries to temper all that down and lock it up. She's only eight, after all, he doesn't think she needs to try so hard.

She says she's trying to be 'ladylike' and Sachi has no idea what that means - doesn't being a woman automatically count as being a lady? There shouldn't be a wrong way to be a woman, but apparently there is, and Black Maria finds it fit to remind him so every time they meet for a lesson.

The sensuality for an Oiran lay in the fact they're one of the few women who can read and write kana, they're taught how sing and dance, and play instruments - the best of the best have men coming to entertain them, with men spending money and fighting for their attention and trying to charm her. Education is beauty. Or whatever she likes to brag about.

He doesn't care for all of that.

She frustrates Sachi at times, and he wants to spit out nasty words in response when she pushes just a bit too much.

_ What's the use of an educated woman when they become unmarketable as they age? You might as well become one of the shinju begging a man to take her severed finger. _

He never does say that, of course - Sachi's sure she's heard this over and over from the men and workers in the old man's crew.

"Go ahead," says Black Maria. "I wrote your name, all you need to do is copy down the strokes. You can't write your name in hiragana forever - it's not proper, even if you started your education late. Master Kaido lets you do what you want, but he gave you such a pretty name. It must disappoint him so, to see you act like the fool we know you are. Sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child."

Sachi clicks his tongue, but acquiesces.

「辛」 

Black Maria frowns at him, "You missed a stroke. You wrote it all out of order. Your name uses the kanji for 'joy'. You wrote 'suffering' instead."

She points at her example, then points at his.

"Strike through the top, you can turn your misery into fortune but not the other way around." Her smile turns sly, as if proud of herself for thinking that up. "Go on, dear."

Sachi cringes at the pet name, it feels fetid coming out of her mouth, but does what she says. Then he stares at the result. 

「幸」

"Good girl!" 

He feels like laughing, or crying, or both. He does neither.

It makes him uncomfortable for some unknown reason - if his name is only one off from misery, then he can't say it's a very good name. Your name represents your life, after all, your name carves the path for your future. He doesn't want to invite that augury into his life.

He writes his name in hiragana from then on and ignores Black Maria's attempts at scolding.

  
  
  


Oden isn't dead yet, but Sachi is a few months older. He stands timidly outside of the medic bay, curiosity boring through him like mites - it's white, sterile, and unfriendly. The air is stale and makes his nose burn with the smell of antiseptic. It's always cold in that room, and there's no one of importance in there right now.

It's a new addition, filled with large, beeping machines. He's seen people move them onto the island from the engawa when he tries to take peeks at the dancing fool, and the sight caught him at the base of the brain and hooked him for reasons he doesn't know why.

He fusses with the nurses, listens to them coo at Kaido's  _ angel of a daughter _ , butters them up. He grins at them and twirls around in his summer jinbei so they can squeal over the black and pink patterns. Sachi is eight years old, and despite how aggravating she can be at times, Black Maria does know how to cosy up to people to get what she wants.

And since he's so friendly with the nurses he quickly gets used to the images of sedated men and women strapped down to medical beds. He feels nothing about it at first, he has no attachment to these people - artificially sent to dreamland, hunks of metal pump air rhythmically into their lungs, mouth stretched wide to accommodate large tubes rammed carelessly between their teeth.

He gets used to the sight of people cleaning bedpans or people removing catheters and cleaning sores, and ultimately thinks it's a waste of everyone's time.

"Have they woken up yet? Queen said -"

"Joker mentioned -- testing stages -- not yet --"

"What? So we get -- failures -- dull as fuck -- feeble --"

It makes him blink, and think. It's a privilege to be used by Kaido, it's an honour to be in his presence. If they're of no use, his father should not keep them. His father's generosity knows no bounds.

He sneaks in, he's been given a rare chance after all, to get up close to the patients - he's tall, even at this age, and could pass for a shorter adult especially when he covers his features with a mask and gloves and shapeless scrubs. He chooses the one closest to the door to deal with. This one has a knob.

Sachi can't tell if they're a man or a woman, and carefully holds their hand, even when he gets up close. Their lips are an angry red at the corner, raw and unused to the treatment, they're a new one after all. In the back of their throat they give a dry sounding gurgle - their saliva bubbles, Sachi can see mucus at the edges of their limp tongue, and Sachi wonders if the tube is uncomfortable for them. That can't be, though, stuck in their sleep as they are.

"If you are ill," he starts slowly, "you are of no use to my father. He doesn't like weak people."

Quietly, he folds their hands over their chest like a corpse and smooths over their hair.

"You're a pitiful little thing, catching sickness like that."

He goes to a sink and runs warm water over a cloth, and he speaks towards that one person a distance. 

"The nurses say you choose to remain feeble. Why would you not want to get better?"

When he comes back, he slinks to the chair next to them, and squeezes out excess water on the floor.

"My father had this whole place built for people like you," he frowns, gesturing. "And all the ladies taking care of you say you waste resources since you choose to nap instead of work. They always say they'd like to take naps, but you people seem to be taking forever with yours, so they can't. Sharper than a serpent's tooth, you know?"

Tentatively, Sachi mimics the nurses, wiping off sweat and oils from their face and cleaning off the exposed 'v' of their neck chest before moving onto their legs. He doesn't really want to touch them anywhere else. Sachi can see their bones through their skin.

"Black Maria says you must choose to be strong, and if not, you must choose to be brave - that is innate in humanness."

Sachi looks at them, then drops the cloth on the floor. He doesn't bother picking up a dry towel to dab at the places still wet with his attempt to spare the nurses some grief.

"Have you thought," he mutters, then he looks at all the plugs and wires hooked up to them - he takes a dispassionate overview of himself and of them and finds himself apathetic. This doesn't concern Sachi, not at all. He doesn't care enough to pull the plug and see what would happen, and he's lost interest in playing nurse, "that if you are not worthy of use, then there's no point in being alive?"

They do not respond, and Sachi nods at them.

"Maybe that's why you will not wake up; no use for broken chattel. But I am not like you. Even I have some use."

And he tells himself not to come back to this particular room again.

  
  
  


When he's older, Yamato will say he's never seen a man so ready to die as his bastard of an old man - he's older than fucking sin and probably shits out dust. He bets money his father is probably haunted too, though he'd never say that last part out loud. There's a time and place for vulgarity and Yamato is still a nobleman, despite his best wishes - speaking curses and ghosts into existence is just too much, even if it may be true. 

(Ulti always sneered at him for his fear of ghosts, but now she won't look at him at all. That's fine. He knows how she is. He isn't surprised when he sees Page One's reaction either. Page One takes a lot of things. He tolerates prejudice and bullshit and cruelty and suffering. He does not tolerate Ulti being genuinely unhappy - he loves Ulti more than himself - the things Ulti liked, he liked; the things she hated, he hated. 

It's fine when he narrows his eyes at Yamato and spits that he hates him. Of course it is. It has to be, Yamato chose his side. It's not as if this was the first time they've chosen Kaido over him - he still has the scars on his back for assuming they’d choose anyone over each other)

But every time Sachi sees Kaido, fear grabs him so completely he can not speak. His shadow could fill a room. His face is wizened, his voice is a flat rasp that whistles with apathy when he inhales; his father is a withered hunk of muscle and sinew with veins visible through his skin - it's respect that makes his breath catch in his throat when he looks at Sachi, it's respect that makes Sachi fear not weeping for Kaido's esteem.

It couldn't be anything else.

When Sachi is eight, Oden dies, and Kaido does the worst thing he could ever do to his child. In a moment weakened by sentiment, Kaido's face goes hard and tense. His fingers twitch and the bottle of sake in his grip shatters like Oden never did.

His father's breath hitches, woeful for reasons he can't understand, and something goes  _ thunk! _ in Sachi's skull, like a marble hitting the sides of an empty barrel.

Every movement stops. Every idle breath ceases. No one even dares to blink. There's not even the susurrus of fabric rubbing against each other. The raucous has been garroted with Kaido's own two hands.

His father's shoulders slope down, slow and languid as he crumples like a kami shibai slide in the rain. He covers his eyes with a gnarled hand, and lets out a brief, choked breath - once, twice - and ugly blobs of tears leak through the gaps in his fingers. Sachi doesn't dare twitch. He doesn't know what he's feeling -- there's something about this site that makes his stomach roil, something helpless and frustrated circulating throughout his body. Anxiety scratches at the inside of his skin like an overwhelmed cat trying to rip through him to get out, and he's filled with restless energy. His father, always strong and large like a mountain draped in skin; his father, weeping in front of him - it's  _ pathetic _ . He doesn't stop his mouth quick enough and he spits up his words like bile, revolted.

"You are crying for Oden." And because of course this is his life, it comes out as a statement.

Sachi clamps his mouth shut with his hands, turns his head down and clenches his jaw. The tension in the air is the same as when his father is about to throw something or hurt someone, and Black Maria gets wide eyed and tense like a fabric taut over the lip of a drum - the feeling in the air like when he narrowly avoids being struck by something, the start he gets when a brush of wind created by an object flies much too close to his face and past it, just as he turns his head to see only a blur of red before a sake cup crashes and breaks behind him. Anxiety breaks his body with trembles, he's going to be hit, he's going to be hit by something eventually - fist or glass or porcelain cup, he's going to be hit or beaten and it's unavoidable.

Black Maria shakes like she’s something delicate and fragile, even though she’s not, even though she never shakes. She's twitching like a fish with a pike through its brain, synapses firing even though there is nothing she can do about the situation.

His father looks at him, and Sachi wants to lie down, offer his belly and cry and apologize for living. For overstepping his boundaries. He wants to weep in fear, some primal part of his brain wailing like a siren. Everyone is looking at Sachi and he feels small and unsubstantial under everyone's gaze.

His father moves slow - the drag of mochi left on a mallet - and it feels like the prelude to a horror story. He turns his head up and stares directly at Sachi with sunken, bruise ringed eyes. He looks at Sachi as if the action of looking at his child is exhausting. He looks placid, but Sachi's palms sweat and his mouth tastes like iron. His tongue is manganese.

His father beckons him towards his dais, and with a flash of stained teeth says, "Child, come."

Sachi has his father's height and heavy filigreed horns, he has long long limbs and his father's gangly paws - he's carved into the same sharp angles as his father when he was younger, has the same fangs and slitted eyes and forked tongue. A child belongs to their parent; every breath their parent takes is air filling the child's breast, every step a parent takes is one a child should follow. Sachi has no choice but to acquiesce to the horrible familiarity of his father; it fills him with a complicated tangle of nostalgic longing and reflexive panic, the primal survival instinct of an animal.

He stands on wobbly legs.

"Barely a step," his father says, he sounds like he's gargled gravel non-stop all through his life, dry like glass being ground into sand. "Daughter, come."

He does.

Kaido reaches out to touch him, and Sachi flinches. His father invades his personal space anyway. A claw tilts his head up, his forefinger smooths down the hair on his pate. His hands are gentle as they poke at his face and arms, as if he's curious, then he plucks Sachi by the back of his kimono and flicks him upward like a rag doll before catching him flat on his back in Kaido's palm. Sachi thinks he's going to start crying.

Sachi makes an audible sound deep in his throat like a whimper, and his old man stares at him and goes soft.

A balancing act on stilts, he's going to fall.

"You made a show of him - laughed at him. I don't understand. You made it public and horrible for a reason." 

His father's voice is low but not unkind and that makes it worse, "do you pity him?"

"No." He says softly, "but you seem to."

"Child," he says, "I did not breed a fool that would attempt to talk back to me."

Sachi shuts his mouth with an audible click. 

"Kozuki is a threat - those who carry sympathy for that name will be bled out on the street and ruined in every way imaginable," the tone of his voice is tepid and he sounds like he's talking about something mundane, like taxes or the weather, "they and everyone they know will be humiliated and written out of history, from the minds of their neighbours, ruin them for their loved ones; my authority will not be questioned."

Sachi nods.

"Even still, the loss of strength is something to feel ill for." 

Sachi's world tilts, a dolly-zoom causing his vertigo as something in his head pops - the room and everyone in it stretches and pulls away from him and it feels like looking through a clear vase to see the world through a distorted perspective and Sachi doesn't understand why.

His father carefully presses the pad of his finger to Sachi's palm in a mockery of holding hands - he could hurt him, he could hurt Sachi so badly and -

"After the flames settle, you get first pick of what you want from the Kouzuki residence."

His father keeps him in his hand for the rest of the night, and Sachi stills like a statue and doesn't speak even when Black Maria gets a chance to remove him from his father's grip.

Sachi vomits as soon as he's out of the room.

  
  
  


He takes all of the books and the ornaments from Lady Toki wore in her hair when all of the salvageable items get delivered to him. The same goes for some of the items in Orochi's abode that once belonged to Oden that the Shogun has no care or interest for - the books are charred, some pages are near ruined, but Sachi thinks that he can make out some of the words and that's enough for him to want it. The ornaments are for Black Maria. It's garbage in comparison to some of the other items, but he lets Kaido's men take what they want.

One of the books, he realizes, belongs to Oden. It starts off as a diary, some pages blank and written in sporadically as Oden skipped days - it ends as a logbook starting from his first exile at his eighteenth year, handwriting neater and much more consistently kept, according to the dates. He pauses and wonders if this is something he should tell his father, but then he thinks of the man and his weakness, and the useless patients in the med bay, and then Oden who never seemed weak in his life. Sachi bites his tongue.

He opens to the first page, careful not to rip the dirty parchment, and like a thief in the night, Oden's words steal him from his father with vehemence.

_ 1XXX _

_ i wish i could leave like that samurai from the shimotsuki family. this country is suffocating and i have not stopped thinking about that since i heard the old man cursing him in secret. i would be delighted to aggravate him even a little but it seems as if i already do that by breathing in the same general vicinity _

_ hyougoro insists that i keep a book so that i may have an outlet for my words and that man from shimotsuki always seemed to be writing as well and he bought several books from before his departure in the night just to record his days. it is hard but hyougoro says i am not the best with my parlance or talking in general unless it's to spout vulgarities like a delinquent and i have not given him reason to believe otherwise and maybe so but i want to try and prove him wrong _

_ i have such a lack of skill with words i doubt i can say it properly here but yasuie said i need not try so hard as no one here will see this besides me. in this book i can lie or draw or talk about my feeling and that is because this is the only thing that will be mine even when i become shogun and put every one else first _

_ i think i am too blunt and my father and i can not just see eye to eye and not just because he is much much taller than me. he is eloquent and i am not. there is so much i want to convey to him and things i would want to say to him but because i am not good at words like him he will not listen and it makes me so mad i feel hot and that is part of the reason hyougoro tells me to write. without being able to properly articulate to others what i am feeling i would begin to feel alone as it is communication that is what shapes groups of people and brings them together. however he says if i am to do this and i am still a brat at least he knows i am just addled brained naturally and he will know that he is allowed to drub the discourteously from me and will teach me manners and i prefer that much more than my father kicking me out of the house then wondering why i spend my time on the streets because at least hyougoro will make sure i am well and he never hits very hard at all it is like the brush of a butterflies wings against an alter disconcerting and a bad omen but nothing that is harmful in actuality _

_ it happened again today and my father said: You Are A Disgrace To This Family, Must You Fight? Must You Hang Out With Those Hoodlums? Can You Not Behave Yourself Child?  _

_ and i said: My Greatest Apologies Father For Harming You And Your Fucking Fragile Little Sensibilities With Things That Concern You Not, Had I Known You To Be So Feeb I Would Have Ordered More Garments To Protect You From The Wind, For It Seems The Slightest Disruption In The Breeze No Matter How Far Away Would Shatter Your Ass In Pieces  _

_ and he says: You Are An Incorrigible Fucking Child _

_ and i said: It's My Life, Old Man, Leave Me Be If I Am That Much Of A Disgrace  _

_ and he said: You Are My Son Therefore You Belong To Me  _

_ and i said: Well Treat Me Like One And I Will Consider It _

_ i am not allowed home for a week _

_ Kozuki Oden _

Sachi doesn’t know when he ended up losing interest in everything - at age eight he’s tired of living his life. He feels like a ghost possessing a body that isn’t his. After reading Oden's notebook, he finally starts to understand where his restlessness is coming from, which is absolute exhaustion with all the things he used to enjoy. Even hanging out with the other women isn't as fun as it used to be - Black Maria and the rest of the women who work for Kaido only serve as painful reminders that something’s off with him - all of a sudden she buried herself in girly things and Sachi wasn't, whether because it got more people for her to play with or not it's been uncomfortable to feel alienated by things he knows he's supposed to like.

Unironically, he thinks it would've been great to live as a rock or a streetlamp or even a shoji door, a permanent fixture stuck to the floor like a really annoying lamp, one that everyone would have to ignore and live around as if he were just a piece of furniture. Magically. Like he could wake up one day after his eight long years of being Kaido's kid into something more useless. It's easy to imagine being slowly forgotten by everyone. Honestly, it's also probably possible that Kaido had him born as a precautionary measure of sort, a bit character, insurance. In case one of him and his indestructible body ever needed spare parts. Like a kidney or something.

It's nice, though, any thoughts of not existing, of being simply an empty body, are shoved far, far away in the wake of him getting his hands on Oden's journals. It's fun.

He reads Oden's log front to back exactly nine and a half times on his breaks, fussing around the med bay or fussing around Black Maria when he realizes his father hasn't called for him in two weeks. He looks up at Black Maria, fingers tensing around the shamisen in his grip. His knees and head hurt and he's not interested in anything Black Maria's trying to teach him. He wants to reread Oden's adventures on the sky island.

After the night Oden died, she went ashen and quiet for a very long time and did not take her hands off Sachi's hands and cheeks and the flat of his shoulder blade for a long time, each time he so much as went and breathed wrong.

"Father hasn't called for me to attend to him lately." There's a discordant twang from Black Maria's side of the room.

"Oh," she starts tentatively, "he's been training Jack as his successor."

Sachi blinks.

"You might get married."

"Huh." He says.

"To Jack, I mean."

Sachi places his instrument down before it splinters in his grip. There's something wrong with him, in his head probably, because he feels apathy try and pull something away from him and leave him settling for less and he thinks Oden would have never, ever settled for something he didn't deserve. If he decides to lay complacent with his father's wishes he thinks there will be a vital piece of him lost - but he's not quite sure where this is coming from. He yanks his emotions back by force and they ricochet around in his brain before something crashes and cracks into something else that he needs whole. 

Sachi tries to imagine what Oden would do and slouches, propping a knee up as he braces back on his hands and says, "I ain't marrying shit."

The incentive doesn't really roll as well off his tongue as he would've liked - it sounds formal and grafted, and Black Maria doesn't look as impressed as he would like. He thought she would at least gasp.

"But you could - Kaido wants Jack to be shogun; he's having you trained and educated for a reason."

"I won't marry Jack," he says evenly. He thinks of Jack, and he thinks of Oden. Jack won’t be able to do it.

Black Maria looks at him as if he's something pitiful. Whatever she's thinking, she doesn't say it. "Sit properly, O-Sachi, that's not ladylike."

  
  
  
  


Sachi gets into a fight with Jack about it, and loses miserably. 

Jack grabs a handful of Sachi's hair, right at the base of his skull and wrenches his head back - teary eyes, Sachi kicks wildly. He hasn't received any training for fighting, but he carries his father's strength; thin but solid, and his gangly limbs catch Jack on the jaw.

"You have no right to take my place!  _ Vile thing! _ "

He yells in more surprise than pain, but it catches Jack off guard that little princess Sachi can pack a kick - he swings the heel of his palm right back at that same spot, trying to mimic what he’s seen other trainees do, Jack gets knocked off of Sachi with a growl. It doesn’t last long however, before Jack pounces right back onto Sachi, grabbing one of his horns and cracks his skull against the ground. Looming over him, that shitty little stray pins him by settling his foot onto Sachi’s chest, choking him as his shaking arms burn with fatigue. Sick, hot, stomach plummeting embarrassment and fear pumps through his lungs with every short rapid breath, his mind unable to accept that he isn't strong enough to push back, that Jack may actually be better than him.

"You're not his son," he says, desperately, babbling. Jack presses his foot down on his chest harder, "you're awful, you -"

“Better than someone who lies around making nothing of themselves, waiting on dear old daddy to give you whatever you want.”

Sachi’s face burns as he tries to deny - he wraps his hands around Jack’s boot, digs his claws through the fabric. He doesn’t flinch. Oden, he thinks, was never in this position. He never lost a fight on the streets. He stood tall until he chose to let death take him.

“I make -”

“The punchline to a joke. You hit me first,  _ like an asshole by the way _ , but I’m not allowed to break anything.”

Sachi tenses, and cows. He goes limp submissively, but that seems to irritate Jack more, eyes flashing in pure disgust.

“If you want people to respect you around here, earn it,” he advises with a scowl, “it’s pathetic having a Young Lady this weak. Talk to Kaido, or suck it up.”

  
  
  
  


It feels like an insult that it takes three more weeks for Kaido to call him - it stings even worse that Sachi knows that he's spending all that time with  _ Jack _ of all people, so when someone tell him his father has made a request for him he bolts towards Kaido's room. He doesn't even stop to say hello or bow to others, impolite as it is.

Kaido's inner sanctum is plain as anything, and Sachi once heard the nurses comment on how surprising it is that the room hasn't been covered from ceiling to floor in leather as well. There's a dais, a tea pot, and there are cups on the table. One, two. The pot’s plain. Table’s plain. The cups are wide-rimmed and plain. There's a plain cushion for Sachi to sit on the floor.

Kaido is as he always is, taking up most of the space in the room as he looks down upon his child.

All his father offers him is, "so, you begged for lessons but you aren't even paying attention to them."

"Hard to pay attention when it seems I'm being groomed for marriage," Sachi says, almost demurely, trying to force on a persona he certainly doesn't feel with all the anxiety in his veins - he's been drilled on pouring tea, and he carefully pours a perfectly even amount of dark liquid into each cup without breaking a sweat. "And when I meant I wanted to study, I didn't mean like Black Maria."

Kaido takes the tiny cup in his huge hand, and it shocks Sachi every time how delicate he is - if Kaido wasn't himself, this would probably feel easier on him. More comfortable. It doesn't make him less nervous, but his father tries.

"That so."

"I wanted to learn how to be of use to you; I wanted to fight and study politics like Jack."

"Hm? You know about that? Guessing there's a narc somewhere." He takes a sip and empties his cup, “marriage was never on the table - it’s a distraction for him.”

"You want him to be shogun - if you marry me to him it would solidify your hold on this place."

Kaido stares at him blankly, "that so."

The way his father looks at him is strange, studying him with narrowed eyes. He looks less like a snake about to strike and more like a child studying a very particular type of bug - one he wants to keep but doesn't know the proper conditions to keep him in or the proper diet to make him eat.

"You don't need Jack - I'm right here," Sachi says, he sits up tall. His spine is a ramrod as he delicately places a hand to his chest and gives a winsome smile, "I would be a much better tool - we can cut the middleman out immediately and you can use me to your heart's content."

When Kaido moves, he can see the hints of inhumanness that all Zoan's and Logia's possess - there's a shift at the joints of his fingers, a ripple of scales and claws at the ends of his joints before it settles into human form, like a trick of the light - it's the tracking line on old monitors with withered old snails at the helm, the slide and jump of a VHSlug.

Kaido’s lip curls furls, and he thinks he knows his father enough to see that this isn’t a threat or a mocking look. He smiles at his child like he’s sorry, like Sachi is pitiful, rheumy eyes directed at Sachi with something Sachi doesn’t know how to identify, each wrinkle at his face deep and hard. His cup is balanced on his pointer finger. Sachi refills it. "No one will pay obeisance to a weak fool."

“I can -“

“You couldn’t even last ten minutes against Jack.” Sachi flinches, then tries to stammer before Kaido continues, "Jack told me right after."

“I can learn,” he mutters, “I can fight - I am your child, a child is made of their parents. I can have your strength, if you give me a chance to utilize it. I'd be a great tool.”

He’s prepared for this - Sachi lines out every inch of his studies, he knows his worth, he knows the status of this country so clearly from what is outlined in Oden’s logbook - there’s respect and compassion burning through Sachi’s chest every time he reads about him, there’s a familiarity in his writing and words that leave Sachi feeling right and balanced instead of feeling left footed - he wishes he could be Oden, but something like that isn’t really possible for him. He lays down each and pro and con for his father, tilts his head up to look at him, and drawls out his plan with an easy grin to hide his shaky voice.

Kaido stares at him. Something in his expression flickers, passing across his face, and then it’s gone. 

“Draw blood,” he says.

“What?”

His father's smile splits across his lips like a knife wound, suddenly something Sachi finds condescending.

"If you want something, then you'd best be ready to fight for it." Kaido tilts his head at him, as if Sachi's entertaining, "one hit, and I'll grant you one request. Draw blood and I'll train you to be the shogun in Jack's stead."

"Then," he says, "If I wanted to rename myself, you would grant my request?"

His face doesn't change, he waves him off. "Doesn't matter, just a name."

"Then, if I were to want to be someone like Kozuki Ode-"

His old man catches him in the side and Sachi smashes into the wall with white pain, he bounces off the wall like a training dummy and as soon as he rights himself to his knees, he retches. One of his loose teeth got knocked out.

"That was barely a tap." His father says, scolding. He almost can't hear him over his ears ringing. He reaches over to prod at his child with worrying hands, but completely ignores him when he flinches at the gesture, pausing once but patting at his face to see the damage, ignoring the sick all over Sachi's chin and front. “Best to knock it out of you before you get any ideas.”

"Need I remind you, Kozuki Oden and everything he stands for is a threat. I will not be challenged by a child," He tilts Sachi's head in consideration, a gentle prod of his nail to guide Sachi's face into the right angle, and Sachi stays silent - his head had hit the wall. There's a crack in his horns and blood runs down his face to stick his left eye shut. "Apologize."

Sachi grits his teeth, his father puts pressure over the raw bundle of nerves exposed in his broken horn and flinches - he can't tell if Kaido's trying to be gentle or actually trying to cause him pain for a response. 

"My apologies," he mutters, and the pressure gets heavier, bright blinding pain causing him to gag. "That wasn't my intention," his voice cracks in a way that makes Sachi flush, "t-to insult you in such a way… my line of thinking was…"

Kaido finally takes his hands off his face to raise him higher and give him a once over. Sachi shuts his mouth, his father doesn't want to hear justifications, his father wants him to obey.

Ultimately, Kaido must decide there's no issue or that Sachi can deal with his injuries himself, like all the other times. 

"Tell me what name you want when you hit me." He doesn't ask if Sachi's okay.

Sachi grins mirthlessly, and suddenly remembers that fear and respect are the same when it comes to family. When his eyes water, Kaido pats his back affectionately - Sachi thinks of Oden and his father, the bizarre mix of attachment and bitterness; he thinks he understands.

_ 1XXX _

_ today i asked hyougoro if what he would think if i did something really bad and he said Like What and i told him that i did not know, what if i had killed someone in my fights, would he be okay with that would he still keep me by his side and he said: Why Would I Be Okay With The Loss Of Life Due To Petty Violence No Matter What A Life Is To Be Cherished Are You That Much Of A Fool You Awful Little Menace Of A Man You Must Work On Bettering Yourself I Can Not Believe You Raging Idiot _

_ and i asked him what if i killed a really awful person and he looked at me very very very quiet and says You Would Not Be Able To and i said I Could and he said You Would Not and i said I Could I Am Strong and he said I Never Said You Were Not Strong Are You Hard Of Hearing _

_ and i said Then How Could I Not If I Am Strong _

_ he said If You Killed Someone You Would Still Be The Same Fool But You Would Be Miserable And I Think Your Greatest Priority Should Be Making Yourself Happy For Now and then he stops and says But I Would Still Love You No Matter How Much Of An Idiot You Are and i looked at him and thought he was nothing like my father and said Oh. _

_ Kozuki Oden _

Kaido puts handcuffs on him - insurance, since he let his mouth go loose around Oden's name - and he exhales. This house is cramped.

The mountains are wide, he thinks. They're large and expansive, and the gods themselves granted Oden freedom once he spilled their blood. It's basically the same. 

He thinks he'll name himself Yamato when this is all over. It'd be nice to have a strong name like that; one that would bring him a sound mind.


End file.
